


The Witch of Europa

by Selene_Dreamwalker



Series: World Traveling & Evil Fighting [1]
Category: Girl Genius, Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Electrocution, Emotional Manipulation, Harry-is-Lucrezia, Manipulation, Other, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-01 10:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2770064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selene_Dreamwalker/pseuds/Selene_Dreamwalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, Harry had been an Auror, died fighting at the ripe old age of 101 because some new upstart needed a metaphorical spanking (what he called spanking by then, was what the young ones termed a one-sided beat-down on the ouch side of harsh). He hadn't expected that whole 'Master of Death' thing to mean he had to work his way though various worlds, most on the brink of destruction somehow, to actually get to the afterlife. Hadn't counted on his 'fuck it, I'll pick the glowing blue one' to mean he'd end up in what he recognized as the comic Girl Genius. And if he had counted on all that, he certainly would NOT have expected to be brought in as, of all people, Lucrezia Heterodyne nee Mongfish, the agreed upon Big Bad of the series. </p><p>He was absolutely certain about three things, if nothing else. Fate was a real being, it was female, and she hated his guts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Harry is Not a Happy Camper

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea. I just, I don't know. But I had to write it, just to get it out of my head. Hope you enjoy, this first bit is kinda funny, but there's a dark bit at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea. I just, I don't know. But I had to write it, just to get it out of my head. Hope you enjoy, this first bit is kinda funny, but there's a dark bit at the end.

  He hadn't really expected to come out of it alive. He'd been retired off active duty for more than twenty years, and was intelligent enough besides to be able to judge that for himself, thankyouverymuch. He just wanted one last thrill, one last shot of adrenaline. All his affairs were in order, he sent out personalized, delayed letters to his still living friends, after the War and  from his generation (only Luna, by this point, who'd given him one of her odd unsettling/reassuring gaze like she'd never see him again, and damn him for figuring it out only when that call came. He was better than that, drat his old age anyway).

It was another young upstart, dreaming of being the Next Big Whoever (Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle/Voldemort ("Honestly, Harry. Will you never use any of his titles?" "You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, you mean? Of course not, Hermione. With the Taboo off his chosen name, and him hating his real one, I've got enough grudging respect for the snaky bastard to call him that. Also enough spiteful loathing to never use it to his face, but that might just be me." *sigh*), or Harry Potter depending on the idiot/moron/imbecile in question), and as ever, something had gone wrong in the build up. Something had blown up, somebody had died, someone had squealed when they weren't supposed to, and what little he'd built up came crashing down.

In the four or five decades after Voldemort had fallen to obscure wand rules, there had been a few dozen who'd tried to fill his footstep and get others to kiss robe hem. One in five had made themselves an actual, credible threat and Harry got called in. Of those that made it that far, only about half were anything worth fighting. Harry, not quite the adrenaline junkie of his youth and old age, but somewhere careful, sly, cunning as the snake the Sorting Hat had known he could be, took them down. Sometimes, if they weren't doing anything against the laws of nature or slaughtering willy-nilly, Harry built up an entire life, a whole identity (of varying genders, which disturbed Ron, exasperated Hermione, confused Neville and amused Luna), and infiltrated. Not because it was necessary, but because he was just. That. _Bored._ Other times, he just walked in, calm as you please, ripped what he needed from the minds of the guilty and terrified the mostly innocent to going straight. Only twice, had he gone in for wholesale slaughter. And only the second time because no one had really believed the first.

Now? He wished for something as sweet as boredom. Being a wizard meant longer life, but taking down the bad guys (idiots, all of them, but they don't make them like they used to, thank goodness) had literally been his life's work. Having nothing to do would kill him faster than any would-be murderer, and here he was right. The new idiot he'd taken out had been experimenting with things he ought not, woken something that shouldn't have been woken, and paid. Thing was hungry, though, and would not go back to sleep peacefully. So, Harry was glad he was here. He actually remembered this one, and had been overruled on killing it last time. Now, he had no one tying up his decisions in bureaucratic red tape, and would do what he damn well pleased. It died, this time.

(It occurred to him, distantly, that he was a more famous, better looking version of Mad-Eye Moody. Old Man Potter, they called him, and comparing him to that old one-eyed grump was more of a complement than they'd ever know.)

And die it did. Not easily, nor cleanly, but when it's malevolent stomach acid melted his frail old body, the wide, wide grin on his face was one of the last things to go.

* * *

So, he expected to go to that sunny place he kept getting glimpses of. Where his parents, their friends, his friends, their parents, and all the rest were.

What he got? What looked like some kind of mystical terminal, where things began instead of ended. Just his luck, really, he'd half been expecting it.

There were balls floating around him, spherical, designs, curling vines, colors, textures, all different and varied between the - he counted quickly - several dozen of them. The one floating closest gave off an almost sickening feeling of wholeness and Harmony. There was a glowing pedestal whose colors kept changing and mingling and doing a swirling tye-dye thing that was hard to look at, on which rested a book.

Harry wouldn't go into the details, but it was instructions on how his Master of Death powers worked. Basically, all those glowing spheres? Worlds in danger of disappearing entirely, due to one reason or another, and for some reason that cosmic powers couldn't fix, were left here for _him_   to deal with. At his leisure, and that particular comment was definitely snide.

All this work, when the afterlife was _just!-_

All this work . . .

Hm.

There was a wide, mad paring of lips that _could not_ be called a smile, by any means.

Still grinning fit to split his face, Harry went to his left, touch the pretty blue one, and the Mystical Terminal swirled into confining nothingness.

* * *

For an indeterminate time, Harry floated in comforting, constricting nothingness. Once he could feel his body, he kicked at the walls, pushed with his hands, and only when he felt what had to be giants hands pushing back did he realize what was going on.

He was in utero. A womb. And the only thought that came to mind should _not_ have been, _"Okay, lady, we ain't neither of us gonna like_ this . . ."

Spending a minute (or an hour, day, month, who knew, like this) freaking out, Harry got bored again.

_"No wonder babies come into the world squalling like a banshee, just hearing the noise of their own screams must be blessed relief."_

Small tremors started up around him, faint but building, and he didn't notice until he stopped floating and the fleshy walls around him got less in-your-face and more one-with-your-face.

Fun.

The walls pulsating around him sent him . . . up, down, left, right, he couldn't tell, months floating weightless in blackness will make damn sure your sense of direction is shot to hell. But he knew he was going towards his new mother's birth canal, and he did the absolute best he could for the poor woman.

Not a damn thing.

When he felt cold air at the top of his head, he knew he was crowning. When he felt- well, he'd skip that bit, but the long and short of it was, it was messy, it was icky, and he was glad he couldn't remember his first one, and judging by the haziness, he wouldn't remember this one clearly, either. Small blessing.

Aaaaand they were speaking a dialect of Latin called Romanian, with the odd German phrase. (He had gotten bored enough after retirement to do his best to learn every language in the world. Took him the better part of three decades, but he'd done the best he could. Dead languages were tough bastards.)

Then came the audio. "-name her Lucrezia Mongfish. She's you new sister, Demonica, Serpentina-, don't touch that, it's **breakable! Idiot minion**!" A man's voice, starting out soft and gentle, then harsh, then a musical kind of wavering Harry had never heard befo- . . . wait a second . . .

"Lucifer, be a dear and get that towel? She needs to be cleaned up." There it was again . . . was he female, now? Well, he'd dealt with weirder things, why not?

"Right, dear. Here it- **I SAID DON'T TOUCH THAT!!!** " Whatever was going on with the man's voice got worse and louder. Interesting. A thing to study later, that.

Something gently pushed all over his crying face, and other parts of him, before he laid eyes on hands down the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen. Big blue eyes (tired, bags, hasn't been sleeping well), long blonde hair (matted with sweat, some in her face), a tanned type of skin that suggested desert, sunny places, and a warm smile on bow-shaped lips that made her heart-shaped face glow. Gorgeous. Harry loved her right then.

Then a man came into view, huffing and stared at him like the worlds biggest bit of animal dung had walked up to him and plopped in his lap without so much as a by-your-leave. Brown hair that fanned and framed his sharp, pale features, bright green eyes Harry last remembered seeing in a mirror a world away, and the kind of contempt on his face he'd seen on Narcissa Malfoy's face whenever Quiddich came up. Harry hated him right then.

Hated him when he had his minions shoo his new sisters out. Hated him when he took hold of Harry, gently cradling him like he was loved, like he was cared for by this man with ice in his eyes.

Loathed him without remorse when he killed the woman who'd just given birth to his third daughter, the woman who never took her eyes off of him, now her, and never stopped with that loving, beaming smile as the light left her tired, blue, blue eyes.

That was when Harry decided he'd kill Lucifer Mongfish, somewhere along the way. Harry could be a right bastard, given reason, and he'd show this icy-eyed monster what it meant for Lucrezia Mongfish to be a magnificent bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think. I'll be posting a few more chapters regardless, but feedback is appreciated. 
> 
> Okay, that bit at the end? I hadn't planned that. I was going to make Lucrezia's mother either die of childbirth or due to assassins at some point, because they way they talk in the comic, she must've died a while ago. Anybody know her name?


	2. In Which There is Much Planning and LIttle Plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *points at title*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy.

Harry spent a good deal of the following weeks in a doubled state. He'd learned it for his undercover missions, when one little screw-up could get him, if not killed, then severely injured. What he did was, he built his persona. He crafted them, made them, and they were exactly as they needed to be, were only what he wanted them to be. Masks, to take off or put on at will. While the mask could be laughing, smiling, telling a joke with happiness in his/her eyes, Harry in the back could be watching the world outside with rage to strike fear into gods, and no one would ever notice.

That was what he did here. He crafted an evolving mask (which was harder than an ordinary one, because this one had to grow), to take the place of a squalling babe, while he sat back and thought. He thought, and he watched, as his new mother's body was disposed of quickly and stomach-churning efficiency (apparently, she'd been sold as a bride for Lucifer's aid in something or another, and the agreement was to bear him two children, gender being no issue. When news had come out that she was pregnant with a third, he'd been displeased, but decided heir and a spare wasn't quite safe as it had been), which generated the expected amount of disgust in Harry that he really wished he had even so much as a butter knife to stick in his new father's eye.

He'd been mostly in shock, being born, seeing his mother, his father, his mother's death. It hadn't really registered, the names, but he recognized them, and could set his plan by them. The Girl Genius comic, just one of the myriad things he'd read to pass the boredom or the years, and he had been born into the agreed upon Big Bad of the series.

Simply put; fuck that shit.

He would have to rely rather heavily on his masks. He'd have to manipulate like no tomorrow; this was a long haul, here, and one misstep spelled certain doom. No second chances, no take backs, the kind of high stakes game that'd make champion gamblers sweat and loosen their collars.

No pressure.

Demonica and Serpentina were darling children, young. They learned quickly how to be cold, a father like theirs. Oh, Lucifer loved them, in his way, but they were pawns for him to play, and they grew up knowing that.

Demonica was a proper young lady, pretty pale blonde hair, pretty pale blue eyes (their mother's eyes, and she was Lucrezia's favorite just for that), pretty pale skin, and she was cunning enough to get her a proper gentleman, with a spine enough to stand up to Lucifer Mongfish and ask for his eldest's hand in marriage. Also smart enough to bring something that would benefit his would-be father-in-law, butter him up, and he was either having an off day or he bought it, because he'd agreed. So Jeremiah Malfeazium got Demonica Mongfish's hand in marriage, and despite all the intrigue, they seemed happy.

Serpentina was Demonica's opposite. She grew up to be a wild thing, defiant at every turn, but careful, never to truly upset their father. Not until she was out of the country, apparently, and married safely to Indian nobility such that their father couldn't really complain. Though Lucrezia did catch the odd mutter about the DuMedd fellow's history.

And Lucrezia grew up. She grew up, gorgeous as her mother but with her father's eyes (Harry was glad for the doubling concealing and preventing certain actions, because the first time he'd heard that, he simultaneously wanted to breakdown in hysterical laughter because _it followed him here_ and snap and snarl because he'd never really hated his eyes before, but thanks to Lucifer, he did, oh he most certainly did), and as she grew gorgeous, she grew coy with it. Manipulative. Seductive. The Mad Scientist's Beautiful Daughter, a Mad Scientist herself, but with just enough melancholy, with just enough reluctance. Lucifer never noticed it. Neither did Serpentina. Demonica knew something, but never said, merely watching on with blank face and sad eyes as she followed Lucifer's every command, did as he bid her. Mostly.

Lucrezia rebelled in small ways. Nothing that ever got noticed, nothing that would set him off or raise his suspicions, but enough for an outside observer to see.

Luckily for her, the Heterodyne Boys were clever enough to see it.

The Heterodyne brothers had been going around, stopping various mad-boys and mad-girls, saving here, rescuing there. Being heroes. A small, private part of her wished he'd save her. (A small, private part of him waited for the day).

* * *

It was nighttime, actually, when they did meet. Lucifer brought her with him to show them off, let her see how dangerous and clever he was, both because he was proud of his achievement and as a warning to her that had long since stopped being sincere and was more habit by now. She knew he was secure in her fear, if not her loyalty.

Bill and Barry noticed, of course. They noticed how dead her eyes were. They noticed when Lucifer gave her orders, and she snapped to do as he wished. Certainly, they noticed when, moments later, she loosened their restraints enough for them to get out on their own. Barry thought her dead inside. Bill thought she needed help.

Lucrezia, hearing explosions and screams from various minions, and the lovely shouts of her dear father being thwarted, looked at the mirror on her vanity, and smiled a vicious little smile on crimson lips.

Just as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think.
> 
> I could not resist that last bit. I couldn't. No, there was no evil or maniacal laugh, that would've been noticed, you silly. 
> 
> There will be a little side-story of Bill making a pit-stop on their way out. A little naughty.
> 
> No, I don't know why those notes from the last chapter are there. I can't get rid of them. If you see them, ignore them.


	3. In Which There is Torture and Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one will be depicting Lucrezia's point of view from the Witch's Wiles. It starts a bit before all that in Wiles, then goes to the lab, and into a fair bit more detail. I'm not running on two-days-no-sleep-chocolate-ice-cream this time. So, without further adieu, the third chapter. There'll be plot advancement next time, I swear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

One quick thing before the actual chapter. I'll be trying to put Sparky voice harmonics here such that they're obvious, so in later chapters, point out if I've missed any.

Here's the guide;

 **This is the first stage, and did you see that, it looked like a rather lovely** \- oh, fine, I'll stop. What were we talking about?

 _ **This is the second stage, and if you interrupt me again, I'll see about you becoming a wall** **ornamen**_ \- ow! Fine, you didn't have to hit me! _Rude._ Why are you rolling your eyes?

 _ **THIS IS THE THIRD AND FINAL STAGE, YOU MISERABLE MINION!!! BOW AND SCRAPE BEFORE MY AWESOME MAJESTY!!! MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!**_ \- COUGH!!! Throat punch . . . not fair! *collapses in a heap*

Just to clear that up a bit. Now, here's the actual chapter.

* * *

 

(Harry had never run an undercover operation for so long. The longest had been three years, and he'd needed to meditate for months to get his mind back in order. He'd had this one running for nearly twenty years; that's a hell of a time difference. More, it was a very long time without amiable human contact, and not even one person to lean on. Lucifer was useless for that, as a classic evil Spark, not that Harry would've gone to the man anyway. Demonica, while noticing something amiss with her youngest sister, was both far too reserved and far too fearful of their father to actually help, for all her sympathetic eyes. Serpentina, if she noticed anything, dared not show it; she was in hot water too often enough herself to risk more, even for her little sister.

Harry didn't blame them, couldn't, really. They were looking out for themselves, for number one, and there'd been enough times he'd done the sink-or-swim tactic with newbie Aurors to see what this was (and every newbie he did that to went on to make their own legend, to the point where Harry got another hyphenated title; He-Who-Made-Legends, which he didn't actually detest as much as he thought he might). The fact that Harry's created persona, Lucrezia, was floundering was a bit more alarming.

It wasn't anything obvious, not to an outside observer. Just, the fire Harry had, that he'd created her with, that he'd seen almost universally with Sparks in the comics? It was going out. Lucifer was crushing her spirit, and it was slowly killing her. It was getting close to the time when Lucifer would lay his trap for the Heterodyne Boys, and he couldn't risk reabsorbing the persona and then creating a new one; Lucifer was familiar with this one, and intelligent enough to notice any significant difference. If she broke, as she was close to doing, she'd be reabsorbed anyway, but such a thing would scramble his mind and Lucifer would kill her/him/them while she/he/they were weak. It was a rare lose/lose Harry found himself in, which honestly hadn't happened since the early years of his Auror work.

It looked like she/he/they really were in need of rescue. Harry just hoped Bill and Barry were up to it.)

* * *

Lucrezia was not abused, not by the standards of their world, anyway. So far as minions went, she was actually treated fairly well. There was no physical abuse; Lucifer didn't touch her often enough for that, and she'd made herself act aloof and cold well enough that even the most compassionate of Lucifer's actual minions daren't do anything more than professional conduct required. Verbal abuse; as far as treatment of minions went, she was no more favored than any of them. Neglect? Perhaps, but she'd had nannies to look after her until she was deemed skilled enough to look after herself.

As far as minion treatment went, she was living it up. As far as treatment for your daughter went, it ticked the last two boxes neatly. And it was killing her.

Oh, she could feel it, her Inner Self. She could feel his fire, which if given a chance would fuel her Spark magnificently enough to rival the maddest Heterodyne. She knew what would happen if she broke, but with the fire he'd made her with, she would not give up easily. But, for all she had a vague idea of what was to come, she had no one but him to support her, and there were times she thought herself the maddest Spark alive, to think as she did. She knew, instinctively, he'd had support, however minimal. She had nothing, not really. Her sisters looked out for themselves, and she agreed with her Inner Self, they could not be blamed for saving their own hides. She agreed also that she'd turn to Lucifer for support when . . . actually, she never would, no matter the qualifier. There was nothing that could make her ally with her mother's killer.

She was alone. Suicide had occurred to her more than once, but she had too much life-fire in her to actually do it. But her little flame was growing so, so dim . . .

_**BANG BANG** **BANG**_

Lucrezia jumped with her reflection mirroring the move, startled from her thoughts and suddenly vehemently grateful for the one embarrassing occasion when Lucifer had walked in as she was getting dressed. He never just entered her room unannounced now. She straightened herself in her vanity hurriedly but correctly, a skill born of long practice. Then she shut herself down. Now, however beautiful she appeared, she looked like nothing more than a doll, blank green eyes and no expression on her face. Her only protection from the first check box, her only shield for her dying flame.

Opening the door to gaze woodenly at her father's atypically excited face, she prayed her last defense would hold.

* * *

Walking into her father's lab to see some poor, hapless fool being tortured was nothing new to Lucrezia. It had been, at first, and had bothered her greatly many times after. But her father's various reactions to her compassion and kindness had all but cured her of that. Now she saw two men on the slabs, one being electrocuted at a painful intensity - of course - and the other silent as the grave, grim-faced and still.

The silent man was a bit younger than her, she guessed. Broad of body, yes, but not fat by any means. An honestly big-boned person. A smart one, too. Begging for it to be him, or for it to stop, would aid his friend not at all. He was fully clothed, merely restrained as securely as the attached restraints were able. He was untouched, sandy-brown hair having a bit of ash from either the fight or an escape attempt; the former, she guessed, there wasn't any destruction in Lucifer's lab to show the latter. His eyes were closed and lips pressed tightly enough to be white.

The man being tortured was her age, roughly. He shirt had been ripped apart sill mostly on him - she saw a few mostly healed gashes, likely from the fight he put up as they weren't professional enough nor clean enough to have been deliberate -, pants intact, electrodes attached to various points and obviously activated; he did not scream, but she rather suspected it wasn't because he lacked breath to, rather that his muscles were contracting too much for one to get out. His back was arched, head of chocolate brown hair thrown back and mouth open in a silent scream as his body shook under the onslaught of man-made lightning. There was a fine sheen of sweat on him, which likely only enhanced his pain.

Lucifer switched it off, and the man went limp in the restraints, which were all that kept him upright. He panted, a fine tremble running through him even as bleary brown eyes stared through his sweaty fringe at them.

Then Lucifer began second-stage fugue babbling. _**"I told you, my dear, I told you! Your dear old Dad has caught the Heterodyne Hero-Boys!**_ " Continuing on in that vein, rephrasing the same thing several times before he got around to his actual plan, " _ **and now, now I'll have their secrets! In the hands of a proper Spark, I'll be able to RULE EUROPA!! THE WORLD, EVEN, IF I'M CAREFUL ENOUGH!!!** **WAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!"**_   A typical Spark plan, with as much chance for success as all the rest-

Wait . . .Heterodyne?!

( _"Finally!"_ Harry couldn't help but crow within their mind, immediately falling silent at her wave of panic. He didn't want to frighten her, but this was good news.

'No it isn't! What do I do? They're being tortured! I've never been able to free any of his prisoners before-!' Oh, she was so green, sometimes.

" _Ah, but how many of them would've been able to free themselves, given a bit of . . . wiggle room?"_ He knew she couldn't see it, but she could certainly feel the mischievous grin on his face. The annoyance she projected at him was worth it.

'That's actually a good idea. Where'd _you_ find it?' And she made a funny. Ha ha. But-, yes, fun and game time over, time for on-the-spot plotting.

 _"Oh, shut up and pay attention, Lucy's winding down."_   His only real regret regarding the man was never being able to call him that to his face.

'Right.')

 _ **"Well? Do you see my genius,**_ **dear daughter** mine _?"_ He seemed to search her for something, she could tell by his posture more from routine than any real suspicion, but she did as expected, as she'd done many times before.

"It can only be a testament to your skill that you caught the Heterodyne brothers, father! But why are you torturing them straight away, didn't you say waiting was sometimes harder, with Sparks? And this deserves to be celebrated, surely." Doing her best to appear properly deferential was only habit, nothing more.

His hand coming into her vision caused her not-an-act to flicker ever so slightly; it always startled her when he touched her, half because he almost never did and half because when he did, it was for nothing more than rough handling or, rarely, a slap. He looked thoughtful, as he raised her chin so she met his gaze. "Yes, that _is_ a good idea. But didn't all the good liquor-?" Go up in flames during one of his childish tantrums? Luckily, no.

"No, there's still your private store. You haven't touched it since Serpentina sent news of her husband." And if there was anything that guaranteed him to get good and smashed, it was Serpentina's escape from him coupled with the high of victory at catching two Heterodynes.

"I haven't, have I? Past time I cracked one open then, isn't it? Glad I thought of it." She'd spent a great deal of time manipulating him such that he accepted certain ideas as his own, thus making him more likely to do as she wanted, usually something that made him forget about her for several hours, the longest peaceful respite she typically got. It still offended her a bit that it had been so easy.

"Of course, father." Come on, come on, get to it. She hoped her impatience wasn't showing.

"You tidy this up for me, would you, darling? Wonderful." And he walked out, calm as you please, not even waiting for her response. Just like the many, many times before.

She set to do as he told her promptly, some places straightening unnecessary things to give the chemically enhanced brew time to really go through his system. It was a bit more than an hour later when she actually got to the brothers, and for all her body set about doing as she planned, she couldn't help but notice the state they were in.

Barry didn't need any cleaning up, but Bill was a mess. She couldn't do anything for his wounds, Lucifer had beaten her the one time she had. All she could do was remove the electrodes, loosen their restraints and warn them. Which she did.

Finishing loosening them such that if Lucifer came back nothing would appear to have gone amiss, she walked to the door way and listened to the robust laugh that promised he was well into his cups. Looking back at the brothers, she caught Barry's wary but sad regard and Bill's sad but hopeful one, spent just a few seconds wondering at their meanings and said only, "Wait about another ten minutes, that'll be how long until the enhanced brew has him really out of it." Having nothing more to say, she left.

She really, really hoped they escaped.

* * *

 Lucifer's mad wails of defeat were music to listen to. Smiling her vicious little smile for only a moment, she sighed, staring at nothing sitting at her vanity, her attention focused in the middle-distance.

Which is likely why she entirely missed a man hovering in her doorway until she'd got up to actually go to sleep, or more likely toss and turn fitfully and have to hide the bags with make-up the next day. She couldn't help her tensing, looking around for -weapons, her father, any more of them - the usual. It wouldn't be the fist time she'd had to fight off annoyances coming to harass her while Lucifer was tangled up elsewhere.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, forgetting to put up her shield. This man had caught her rather off guard, but the minions tended to lean towards less observant, so he'd probably notice no difference.

His words near about made her faint. Smiling faintly, he said mutedly, "I wanted to meet the woman who aided my brother and I. Say thank you."

While her mind rushed to wrap around the first bit, she'd heard the second bit often enough she couldn't stop the instinctive fear from showing, even as she realized the man in her doorway was Bill Heterodyne and he'd do no such thing as she feared.

His smile widened, and the kindness was both real and purposefully made more obvious, but it was the rage behind it that really calmed her. It was one she recognized from her Inner Self, and even when she thought herself the maddest Spark alive, it was always a comfort. The rage of a good person at a wrong they'd seen, and were determined to mitigate if not fix.

He strode forward and embraced her, his gratitude delivered quietly to her ear, but physical contact of this sort was alien to her; she had literally not been hugged since her mother's death. Being cradled as a baby doesn't count. But it was warm and solid, and an inexplicable feeling of _safe_ washed over her. She sighed, and felt all tension leave her body as she leaned all her weight on him.

Time passed, as it always did, and she couldn't have told how much. She was drifting, someplace warm and pleasant, and really couldn't be much bothered when he leaned back, the tiniest possible smirk at one corner of his mouth. She was not prepared for him to put one arm behind her back and another under her knees, to scoop her into his arms. A little gasp left her that she didn't mean to, and he carried her to bed, lay her down and sat at the edge.

As he smiled down at her he seemed about to leave, but leaned forward instead. She felt her eyes widen some, but they fluttered shut independent of her control when he pressed his lips to hers.

(Inside her/his/their head, Harry's magic and her Spark went absolutely monkey-nuts. There was some type of energy that cloaked Bill, and it was seeping into her/him/them the longer they kissed-

-WELL, THIS WON'T DO-

-and suddenly she was alone in her/his/their head, but he was her, in was her head, it was just them but it was just her, now. She was them was her, because they and he _were_ her, as she was, now. And wasn't _this_ **fascinating** **?** **She'd have to find** _ **out more about that**_.)

He massaged her mouth with his, pleasant tingles shooting from her mouth to all over and settling in her belly. She felt her throat begin to vibrate in a moan when he pulled back. She felt his breathes on her face, knew hers were hitting his, felt the madness of her Spark and her magic rushing through her in total harmony for the first time. She opened her eyes to look at the amazing, wonderful man above her.

The one staring down at her as if she were the most amazing, wonderful thing he'd ever seen. She wondered what was different, was it just the kiss? But no, wait, her shields were down, she was showing all her emotion right now, she was whole, and felt the rushing, dizzying madness of the Spark crashing through her like never before. What a sight she must be.

"I've got to leave." Was all Bill said, and the hoarseness of his voice as well as his heated gaze on her felt like a victory.

It was enough to calm her slightly, so she could get a handle on herself. Just a handle, though. She was never dampening herself like before again if she could help it.

And just for the sake of the antagonist she never would be, she grinned the most wicked, Sparky grin of her life and warned him. "You may come to regret this, William Heterodyne."

She felt him shiver ever so slightly, and saw the Sparkiest smirk she'd ever seen grace his slightly kiss-swollen lips. "No, I really don't think I will, Lucrezia Mongfish."

He forced himself away from her, backed out of the room without ever taking his eyes of her and she followed until he was really gone. The effort to leave looked as if it had been painful.

For a time, she simply lay there, staring at the ceiling. Thinking. About Bill - and Barry, and Klaus, and of course Gilgamesh and Agatha, Tarvek could more or less take care of himself -, about the pleasant feeling running though her body, and also about Fate's generally sadistic-but-well-meaning sense of humor.

 _'Screw it_ ', she thought, _'let the chips fall where they may. I'll figure it out as I go. It's what I'm best at, after all.'_ And that was definitely the hundred year old Auror in her talking.

That vicious grin was on her face again. _'This is gonna be_ fun.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I've gotten the better part of a hundred hits, two kudos and no comments. C'mon, my fellow Readers, throw me a bone, here. Please, leave a comment telling me what you think.


	4. In Which There is Discovering, Decieving and Daring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erm. Well. This is me trying to tie some things from canon into something resembling the original plotline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV before this has been exclusively Lucrezia/Harry. There'll be some switching in this one, because I can't seem to do it all from her point of view. Enjoy

When Lucrezia finally figured out what the hell was going on, she felt like going on a mad rampage.

Evidently, Lucifer Mongfish wasn't just your typical evil mad Spark. No, he was your typical evil mad Spark _with a purpose_. Turns out, he wasn't just being your regular old arse; there was a purpose. His systematical abusive behavior towards his children had been to condition them. For what, one might ask? To break them, but just enough. Why? For a Goddess to take them over.

Now, Lucrezia recalled the comic well enough, now her parts were merged. Big Bad Lucrezia the Other had been worshipped as a Goddess, presumably for a long while, going by the Geisterdamen, and the story told to Agatha by Klazma Vrin. Apparently, it was a family thing, which only the females of the line could inherit. Demonica and Serpentina being judged both too willful and difficult to break had left Lucrezia, and it hadn't been as much of an act as she tried to lie to herself it was. If not for Bill Heterodyne's timely intervention, she would have broken soon. So, Lucrezia's theory ran thusly: the way she acted, in the comic? Lucifer had broken her, and shaped her to his ways. Eventually, Bill had come along, and maybe they really had loved each other, at least on his part. But comic-Lucrezia, being the way she was, couldn't have been anything but what her father made her, and even Klaus Wulfenbach's vaunted power of observation needed something to work with, and he couldn't see into minds to know this. At some point after having little Klaus Berry, what little sanity she'd managed to scrape together snapped, or the Geisterdamen had tracked her down, or some such. Either way, Lucrezia became their Goddess in truth, or maybe she'd been replaced at some other point. There were too many possibilities and not enough really known.

Bill and Barry probably encountered 'Lucrezia' in full Goddess glory, and realized what a monster She was. Likely, Bill and the Goddess had ended up killing each other, with Barry just getting out alive, finding little Agatha and hiding her with the Clays.  And years later, the battle lost but the war raging, the Goddess-in-Lucrezia returned.

So Lucrezia felt she had every right to go on a mad rampage. Especially, with Lucifer having her strapped in to a download-the-Goddess machine like what was/would be in Sturmhalten that the Geisterdamen had used on Agatha, once upon a future. Luckily, Lucrezia knew Occlumency from Harry Potter's time. She'd organized her mind, fortified herself well. Now, as Captain Jack Sparrow once said, at least one universe and several worlds away, "to wait for the opportune moment". This was how she was going to get to the right point in time.

She allowed the Goddess control of her body, made a small, token resistance and felt the old, vast presence settle in the forefront of her mind. Letting the arrogant, ancient being think She'd won. Think she was helpless and could only watch. Watch as She seduced both Bill (and saw their meeting just as it happened in the comic, Sparky madness, exploding background lab, big smooch and all) and Klaus, the later of which She went through the Naughty Flashback Scene with like they were actors with a script and knew their lines perfectly, watch Her as She arranged for the Geisterdamen to ship Klaus to Skifander.

Watch as She married Bill, became pregnant and had little Klaus Berry, and three months after her son was born, Lucrezia found her opportune moment and acted.

* * *

 When the Goddess went to Her and Bill's bed that night, Lucrezia waited for Her to fall asleep. Once Her mind had gone fully dormant, Lucrezia put all manner of locks and chains on Her mind, including one rather ingenious if hideous mental ensnarement that would make one think the world around them was exactly as it should be, nothing amiss, and nothing that couldn't happen in the Real World would happen in the Fake one. In case She awoke early.

Lucrezia rose from the bed, stretched in her body for the first time in years and went to little Klaus Berry, picking him up. Holding the infant her body had birthed for the first time, she just stood there for a few minutes, cradling the boy. Already he had some tufts of Bill's chocolate hair, and seeing through the Goddess's eyes, Lucrezia knew that the boy would have her eyes. Lucifer's eyes. Or maybe she ought to think of them as Harry's eyes, who got them from Lily. Yes, that was better. She could put herself down all day long and not bat an eye, but if she tried it on anyone else, it fell flat and untrue. Harry's self-sacrificing streak ("saving-people thing", she heard Hermione say distantly, more than a hundred years ago and worlds away) ran strong in her.

She walked, from the room She shared with Bill to Her lab. No one was about, this time of night. Good. There'd be no witnesses.

Once in the Goddess's lab, she stopped in her tracks. Otilia, Muse of Protection, on the wall. Or rather, a fragment of the Castle's consciousness. It raised it's head to her, alarm clear in the movement if not on the metallic face. It tried to put up a brave front that hadn't fooled the Goddess, much less _her_.

" _Lucrezia. More plans to rant and rave about your eventual trium-?_ " It caught sight of Klaus Berry in her arms, and even though it had made no movement, couldn't, it somehow went dangerously still, it's gaze locked on the baby. " _Why do you have the young Heterodyne?_ " For all it was incapable of actually attacking her, it still seemed prepared to do everything it could to protect the new little Heterodyne. Truly, the loyalty of the Castle, as well as the Jaeger monsters, was impressive.

Lucrezia smiled. Disturbingly, at least to the Castle Fragment, it was a nice, kind smile, which it had likely never seen on her face, never from Her, certainly. "I am going to save my son."

It stilled further somehow. Shocked, this time. " _You are not Lucrezia._ " A statement. Such a sure one, too.

The smile widened. "Wrong. I _am_ Lucrezia. The one you are acquainted with is the Goddess who has possessed my body, and made the mistake of thinking me broken enough not to fight back. I have been waiting for the right moment to ruin all Her plans, and this is merely the first step." Stepping over to the cradle (which Lucrezia had planted the idea to do in Her mind; fool deity had never even noticed nor taken note of it) and setting Klaus Berry in it, she turned to the Fragment. "I am going to create a flesh duplicate of my son. It will act like a baby, sound like a baby and look like a baby, but it will not be. Just a programmed thing, not even a chance of developing it's own mind. When She has Her forces attack under guise of the Other, it will appear as if he's been killed, when it's just a flesh balloon going 'pop'."

It took a few moments to process that. _". . . why? If you know an attack will happen, why are you not stopping it?"_

As she all but danced around the lab, gathering what she needed (after having planted the suggestion for them in Her mind, not assembled of course, She'd notice _that_. Maybe) to make the flesh duplicate, she answered the Fragment, "Because. There is a conspiracy, of the Storm King's return and of his Heterodyne Bride. I'll have a daughter, after the 'Other's' attack, and it will be her. She'll fall in love, first with Klaus's son Gilgamesh, then also with Wilhelm's son Tarvek. And after a series of events in Sturmhalten, she'll come here with disaster on her heels." Turning to the Fragment, she looked very serious, saying "You'll hear the Goddess's voice. When you do, _don't_ raise a stink until they come down here, they'll be in the middle of a dangerous procedure to save a few lives. When they come down here, tell them about this. I'll be making a recording explaining this and other things, but you will direct them to my message. Got that?"

It cocked it's head, a curious gesture she'd not expect from a mechanical being. _"What of this conspiracy? And what disaster will follow on this new Heterodyne's heels?"_

She grinned in real mirth, which increased as she saw it jerk back a bit in surprise. "They'll be fulfilling the conspiracy's prophecy, of course. Prince Tarvek Sturmvoraus will be crowned Storm King. Gilgamesh Wulfenbach will inherit the Barony from Klaus as he aught, and Agatha will be Lady Heterodyne. Mind you, Bill, Barry and I will still be around, just we'll be working on ways to unite Europa and ensure the peace will be a lasting one. After we help Agatha clean up the pile-up of enemies attacking Mechanicsburg, anyway. That's the disaster, by the way. Klaus will have made his way back by then, established his Empire and snubbing various noble noses as he does it, and when he's incapacitated after the kerfuffle in Sturmhalten and a crash at some point after that, he'll come here, to Dr. Sun and the Great Hospital. Various rebellious factions, not at all lined up with each other, all deciding to attack while the ruling Baron is weak, and while there's powerful rumors of a Heterodyne heir, a girl, after roughly two decades without? What else should that be called, if not a disaster?"

Watching a mechanical being go into shock for the umpteenth time during this conversations should _not_ be as entertaining as this was. She lost the grin, and went on grimly, "Getting back on topic, here I am making a flesh duplicate of my son. When the attack happens, it will dissolve, but Bill and Barry will be too caught up in trying to rescue _me_ to notice that little detail. As for the real boy," she walked over to her son's cradle, watched her sweet little baby for a moment, then continued "I'm going to hide him. I'm going to suppress his Spark."

 _That_ jolted the Castle Fragment out of it's shock. _"What? 'Suppress his Spark'? There's no such thing!"_

She turned to it, a solemn look on her face, and replied with all due gravity. "Oh yes there is."

* * *

Lucrezia's plan went along so perfectly she was almost sure something was going to go wrong. Except, as she watched the Goddess's plan carry on, she knew it wasn't. She was going to win. She was going to get the chance to really be married to Bill, who she really had fallen in love with somewhere along the way. She was going to be able to really be sisterly to Barry, mess up his always messy sandy brown hair and watch him smile-pout at her as he fixed it. She'd get to actually joke around with Klaus, who's caustic wit she was itching to try her own against. Most of all, she was going to get to tease her daughter about having two boyfriends. All of which she wanted to do so, so badly.

But first, her bedamned plan.

Despite knowing it was a flesh duplicate and not really her son, Lucrezia genuinely couldn't help briefly assuming control and screaming "NO!!!!" when some falling rocks crushed it. Which was just as well, it turned out, because her scream alerted her husband and brother-in-law to her location. They saw her, saw her looking down with devastated grief on her features, and followed her gaze. They saw the blood, the small amount. Added to her reaction, there was only one conclusion. (She'd never felt so much like a horrible person than when she saw the rage-filled grief flash across their faces.)

She resisted the Geisterdame trying to get her out, saw Bill and Barry across the gaping chasm caused by the attack, and just went with it. Letting instinct taking over, trying to get away from her 'captor' to her son's 'corpse', fighting as much as was known she could; which is to say, not at all. The Geisterdame holding her just decided knocking her out was the best option, and when the body had recovered enough, the Goddess was back in control and they were well away from Mechanicsburg. Lucrezia let Her, for now.

Bill and Barry looked for her. It took them a few years, but they found Her. ( Turns out, She'd been pregnant already with Agatha, and given birth among the Geisterdamen. The brothers had gotten her away, though Bill was injured badly enough it was just Barry who gave her to the Clays for safety. He didn't have enough time to really impart anything before leaving. Bad as she felt for it, it was perhaps for the best.)

If it weren't such a serious situation, she'd have laughed at the confused, horrified shock on their faces when confronted with the Goddess's mad glory and Her plans. They tried, they did their best, but as they fought the Geisterdamen and succeeded in killing them all, the fortress's inbuilt defenses had them both tied up. It calmed Her down, and of course in victory She felt the need to gloat. Lucrezia readied herself.

The Goddess stalked forward to Bill, a seductive swing to Her hips as She walked, saying as She did, "You know, I thought my plans were perhaps ruined for a minute when the spineless little girl in here assumed control for a moment at the Castle. Such grief and horror at the death of the squalling, putrid thing. I was glad to see it go, darling, truly I was. It ruined my figure and didn't even have the decency to be a female I could take over later! Positively rude of it."

That's all it really took for them to figure out what the hell was going on. Lucrezia saw Bill's open, warm features close and go cold. Heard him savagely snarl at Her _**"THAT'S MY SON YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT,** **MONSTER**_ **"** with the kind, gentle voice she was used to hearing breathless with Sparky excitement or lowered suggestively in the dim of their bedroom. (Barry echoed with a wordless growl, and in that moment, just for a moment, they resembled nothing so much as vicious wolves.) She could see the encroaching Madness, the kind that happened when a Spark really went berserk. Like what would happen to Agatha when Lars died. And. She. _Snapped._

The Goddess chuckled, purring as She reached to stroke his cheek "It doesn't really matter anymore, the nasty little thing is dead. And soon you will be, t-urk!" She choked as Her whole body jerked, staggering back. "What is-No! She _couldn't!"_ It was uttered in fearful horror. Lucrezia relished in it for a moment.

Assuming control briefly (it really wasn't even a struggle, it was her mind after all, and within it _she_ was a God(ess). She just had to _act_ like it was), Lucrezia shouted, strained like she was having trouble, "Oh yes I _can_!" Stumbling as she clutched at her temples, she caught the wary but hopeful expression on Bill's face, the sad but wary one on Barry's, and it was so much like when they'd met she almost wanted to laugh.

Lucrezia allowed Her to resume control, which She used to shriek in wordless rage and fear. Typical of Her, really. Alas, it was time for the show to go on.

So then, resuming control of the driver's seat, stumbling back onto something hard and cold - rock, from the ceiling, stable for now unless there were more explosions, which there would be momentarily - trembling and panting as if she'd run a long distance. Raising her head to look at the brothers - those poor, _poor_ boys, they looked so terribly _confused_ \- she lifted her lips in the slightest of smiles, her voice being her own low, rolling rasp as it hadn't been in _years_ , "It's been rather longer than we thought it'd be, hasn't it, William Heterodyne?"

Barry, bless that poor man, looked utterly bewildered. And utterly adorable. Yes, she was definitely going to mess with his hair later.

Bill, on the other hand, looked as if his flabber was well and truly gasted. Bug-eyed, dropped jaw, and all. His voice was hoarse as she remembered when he spoke, " . . . Lucrezia Mongfish?"

 Oh, she was a horrible, horrible person for enjoying this. Enough of her amusement, now, time to act fit for the Silver Screen.

* * *

 " . . . Lucrezia Mongfish?"

The comely blonde woman parted her luscious lips, showing her teeth in a way not usually viewed outside of wolves on the prowl. Her eyes, the first thing that had really caught his attention on her even when they'd been flat and dead, were blazing so bright with the verdant flame of her fully realized Madness that it took his breath away for the first time in years. Since that first meeting. This was her, the woman with green fire in her eyes, rasping his full name in her unfair low rolling voice and it really was _not_  the time for things like that.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Berry tense, and yes, that was the type of grin they saw on Sparks that could not remotely be called sane, nor even be vaguely negotiated with. For all that, Bill relaxed. That was the same smile she'd had that first night. The one he hadn't actually seen her wear for years, and now, now he knew why.

Had he ever really known _her_ , the one that called him William? Did it matter, right now?

"I-I don't have very long; She's ancient, strong and canny as you wouldn't believe." Lucrezia stated almost flatly, visibly shaking and voice breathless. She was perspiring, a light sheen of sweat making her skin shine and glow. Would she ever stop being gorgeous?

Bill replied, voice dead serious, "How much longer can you fight Her? Enough to get us free?" She smirked slightly as her eyes went a little opaque; likely, she was remembering that night, how she loosened their restraints enough for he and Barry to wiggle away and take Old Lucifer down.

Shivering lightly, her eyes were a bit unfocused. She almost looked concussed, but Bill put it down to the mad _Goddess_ in her head. "I think I can. But I won't be in control much longer; She's al-" her body seized up a moment, something vile flashing across her - Her, he supposed - fair features, a mad murderous rage he'd become _quite_ familiar with over the years, and then she slumped back against the bit of rubble, panting harder than before. "She's already fighting back, I'm only holding on by a bit. I only regained control in the Castle for a moment when Klaus- when Klaus-" her voice faltered as she swallowed thickly, and as Bill felt the hollow place in himself where his love for his son had been throbbing in pain she went on, "and I only got control now because She was going to kill you. She's fond of you, yes, but you're no more than a temporary plaything to Her, not even really a person."

Lucrezia stumbled forward, weaving back and forth almost drunkenly, tripped a bit and landed against Barry. Too deep in Madness to even blush with his very attractive sister-in-law's voluptuous form pressed against him, Barry only frowned in concern. "How much longer do you have?" he asked quietly.

She raised her lips in a facsimile of a smile, saying, "I'll probably only be able to get you free. If you can, kill me. I'd rather die than be Her slave. I'd rather She have no chance for victory then me try for happiness and have Her win." She frowned, melancholy etched into her features in a way the shouldn't have been beautiful but was. Really, Bill was biased. He'd expound upon her beauties all day every day and find no limit save in the language, and he'd learn a new on to do it over again, he was that stupid with love of her. "Barry." She sighed as she shakily undid his restraints, he helping her when she got his hands free. "Oh, Barry. I wish I'd gotten the chance to be properly sisterly to you. I've so wanted to mess with your hair and giggle at you pouting while you fixed it." Barry frowned himself, biting a lip as he glanced right and down. Bill knew that expression. He agreed, felt awkward about that and would have phrased it differently, but he'd never say it. Bill wanted to see that too, he'd probably chuckle right along with her, maybe make Barry's sandy brown bird's nest worse.

Dammit. Bill felt his eyes stinging. He blinked, and Barry was free. His hands were around Lucrezia's neck, and she was smiling in such a way . . . Bill just knew it would feature in his nightmare's until his end of days. Her eyes were closed, some tears breaking free, and Barry hesitated.

He couldn't _not_ have, not and still have a heart. Bill couldn't blame him, he'd have done the same. Barry would bare no blame for it. No one who knew love of another person would blame him, no one with even half an ounce of sympathy. He really couldn't be blamed for it. He couldn't.

But his hesitation damned them all the same.

What happened next was a whirlwind of activity, it happened so fast Bill could scarcely make sense of it.

Lucrezia's control failed, as she warned it would, and more fools they for not heeding her. Regaining control as She did and panicking at a strong man having his hand around Her decidedly delicate throat, the Goddess did as any female in Her position would. On instinct (She'd certainly never been in this position before, but Her host had, and she had reflexes to show for it, which She of course took merciless advantage of), She kneed Her male attacker at the fork of his legs, and as his vulnerable fleshy bits protested their rough handling most vehemently, Barry all but curled up in a ball as every bit of his strength went out of him, falling to the floor and cupping himself to try, pointlessly, stopping the waves of pain. Bill winced, eyes watering a tad as he did his best to close his own legs to ward off the sympathy throb, unsuccessfully. Barry's pathetic little whimpers weren't helping at _all_.

The Goddess, very much freaking out from Her mental battle of wills that She hadn't so much _won_  as been _allowed_ to win (not that She realized that, Lucrezia was far too clever for it to have been so obvious) as well as Her brush with 'death', got away from him fast, She ran as fast as Her mortal body would allow over to the room's control panel. In Her frenzy, She didn't rightly remember what all the various buttons, levers nobs and switches did, but at that moment She really didn't care. She just wanted these Heterodynes _dead_ , and preferably Her host body too. There were three other candidates, after all, possibly more, and this one had proved herself too troublesome by far to continue dealing with. She began mashing them all without thought or care.

Being as a bit of debris had clocked him good, the following moments were something of a blur to Bill. Barry had got him free at some point as the room came down around them, somehow, because Bill was on his feet even if he was swaying a bit and Barry was . . . no where in his line of sight, but somewhere behind him and to the right, fighting; the Geistedamen had reinforcements after all, and they'd finally gotten there, Barry's shouting at them made that obvious. The room, also, was being destroyed. There had to have been explosives layered into its construction, systematic damage _couldn't_ have been done so easily otherwise, the Sparky part of his brain noted inanely. Bill couldn't focus on any of that, though.

He could only focus on Her. Her, gazing at him across a roomful of destruction. There weren't any fires, yet, and she wasn't angling Herself coyly at him. No, She stood stock still, frozen as a mundane facing a huge war-clank. Her gaze was wavering. One moment, it was the expected fearful, homicidal deity of wrath he'd gotten much too used to. Next, as if he were staring into pits of Greek Fire that invited him to be consumed. Lucrezia might have lost, but she'd hardly stopped fighting. As long as she was still fighting, Bill would always try and save her, should she need it. Always.

That was the only explanation he had for the utter insanity that followed. That or his concussion, but even concussed he'd never done anything like this before.

Now, being a Spark and a Heterodyne, Madness was part and parcel in his life; he'd never actually been without it, even before Breakthrough. In one fashion or another, he'd always been surrounded by it, either by his father or the people of Mechanicsburg adapting to it, Bill had never experienced what others called normality until he'd left his hometown. Bill was very, extremely, intimately familiar with Madness. Insanity, on the other hand, not so much. Some might argue they were one and the same, but the Madness Place was really just a stupidly smart genius getting a kind of tunnel vision hyper focus on something, and not really giving all that much of a damn about anything else besides their project. Insanity was not like that, it was really, truly being mentally disturbed.

Bill thought that insanity might apply to him, because he charged across the room to Her and paid absolutely no mind to anything between them, save to jump over this or that or avoid the odd flying Geister's body Barry was apparently tossing about. He really could be rather frightening once he got into the swing of a fight.

Deep into panic, the Goddess hit and smacked and flailed all over the panel, doing nothing really. Then Bill caught Her, made Her face him as he wrapped his arms around Her and held Her there.

He had no idea what he was going to say, rail against the Goddess or try and encourage Lucrezia to fight and regain control, but he was not expecting the ceiling to cave in behind him, blocking him off from Barry completely. Nor was he expecting Her to smirk. Or rather, her to smirk. Also not expecting to feel as if he were being dragged through a straw that was entirely too small for the both of them, or for their surroundings to completely change once they got out of the straw.

Concussed and disoriented thusly, he jumped when Lucrezia spoke. Softly, apologetically, contrite as he'd never seen her or the Goddess, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

 _'For what?'_ , was all his very confused mind could think before everything finally, mercifully, went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, we have something resembling the original beginning to things, with one hell of a twist, yes? And a cliffhanger, a very delicious cliffhanger. Oh, I feel so evil, I was so mean to Bill, and Barry. Oh, Barry, he's gonna be a wreck. And Lucy, she's got some splainin to do. Wonder how poor Bill is gonna take it. Not well, methinks. 
> 
> Comment, now. Give me your applause, your jeers, your joy and tears. Let me know exactly what you think. TELL ME.
> 
> And ignore the note from the first chapter that may or may not annoyingly STILL BE THERE. *shakes fist at it*

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think. I'll be posting a few more chapters regardless, but feedback is appreciated. 
> 
> Okay, that bit at the end? I hadn't planned that. I was going to make Lucrezia's mother either die of childbirth or due to assassins at some point, because they way they talk in the comic, she must've died a while ago. Anybody know her name?


End file.
